


Mistakes

by badwriterrr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Ginny Weasley, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Cheating, Dom Harry Potter, Established Relationship, Harry is a idiot, Infidelity, M/M, No weasley bashing!!!, Not between D/H, Poor Ginny :(, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Secret Relationship, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, don't worry they get better at it, learning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwriterrr/pseuds/badwriterrr
Summary: Harry loved Ginny. She was kind and tough and perfect. His heart grew a thousand times when he was with her. His arm over her shoulder as they laughed with Ron and Hermione. It felt right. I was everything he’d ever wanted.Harry hated Malfoy. He was sick and twisted and fucking delicious. He moaned and grunted, begging for more like a fucking spoilt brat. He was horrible. He cursed and swore and threw whatever he could get his hands on when he was in a mood. He knew what he was doing to Harry and he didn’t seem to fucking care, if anything he relished in it. Arching back into him, swallowing him whole, cum staining his already pale lashes.Or8th year dumbass Harry who thinks he's not cheating because he's not gay... Well... Let's just say all parties are idiots here,,,
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I refuse to have any Weasley Bashing in this fic however Harry is kinda just dumb. 
> 
> Also TW for some bad BDSM etiquette. Harry and Draco are still learning the ropes to boundaries n' shit but don't worry they'll get better.

Harry couldn’t tell when it started. When he first saw Malfoy after his trial? That night in Grimmauld place with too many tears and shouts. Malfoy running his alabaster hands through near white tendrils. The couch in the manor when Harry had come to apologize. The near dawn limbo of lingering gazes, furrowed brows, and those steely eyes that held something a little more than hate. Half morning with the sent of fire whisky on the softest lips Harry’d ever kissed, as his control melted away— a sick creature forming in his place. Something that’d never existed inside him now controlling every movement— bucking his hips — hands holding down the back of a neck, pressing it further into to the warmth of a pillow — that impossibly animalistic slap of skin — in and out — in and out. Or was it the night after that? In Malfoy’s bedroom, after coming back to apologize a second time. A few snappy remarks, a sneer, a shove. That’s all it took for that demon to arise once more. Rattling bedposts muted by their helpless insults thrown between delicious moans. No. No. It wasn’t then. Madam Malkin’s? Harry’s sixth-year obsession? Harry had no clue how let himself slip so low. How’d he let himself become _this_? Eighth year wasn’t meant to be _this_. Head down studying, free of Voldemort’s burden. Not kissing his amazing girlfriend softly during the day whilst pounding into his worst enemy at night. 

Harry loved Ginny. She was kind and tough and perfect. His heart grew a thousand times when he was with her. His arm over her shoulder as they laughed with Ron and Hermione. It felt right. I was everything he’d ever wanted. 

Harry hated Malfoy. He was sick and twisted and fucking delicious. He moaned and grunted, begging for more like a fucking spoilt brat. He was horrible. He cursed and swore and threw whatever he could get his hands on when he was in a mood. He knew what he was doing to Harry and he didn’t seem to fucking care, if anything he relished in it. Arching back into him, swallowing him whole, cum staining his already pale lashes. Daring Harry’s patience with him more and more, begging for rougher, more violence. Whining when he was slammed against walls, keening into Harry’s reddening hand, moaning for spit instead of lube. It was like all this anger Harry had bottled up inside of him was beginning released all at once, and Draco just begged for more. It felt like breathing for the first time after drowning. 

It became a game far too easily. The teasing comments, the jeers Draco flew his way. Daring Harry to shove him up against his desk and fuck him senseless in front of everyone. 

Harry wasn’t even gay. He wasn’t. He’d never fucked a guy before Malfoy, but he knew this wasn’t a gay thing. It had to be a Malfoy thing. He didn’t have the urge to bend over every other bloke and drill into them like there was no tomorrow. He didn’t want to suck anyone else’s dick, or tongue at their hole— that was just a Malfoy thing. 

Harry had a girlfriend. Harry had a girlfriend and he was fucking Malfoy?

He hadn’t let that fact hit him until the first time he saw Draco on a date with some Slytherin seventh year boy at Hogsmead. He wasn’t even in control of anything when he slammed the door shut to Draco’s room. Draco looked up from his book, eye’s glinting.

“Potter, unfortunately, I’m all fucked out for the night,” he said settling the book down at his nightstand. He was in his silk pajamas, soft and cold at the same time. He certainly didn’t look fucked out. He looked positively untouched. Though he always did. That pompous self-obsessed git.

“Strip,” Harry could only grunt, refusing to move from the doorway.

Draco’s brow shot up. Yet he didn’t move, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Didn’t you hear me, I’m fucked out. If you want me you’ll have to make me,” He said, that cool calculating smirk unmoving as Harry’s expression darkened, teeth glinting, fire in his veins.

“I said,” Harry grunted, still static, “Get your fucking clothes of.”

Draco’s little grin dropped, sitting up a bit, unreadable. “You’re gonna have to make me, Potter,” he said, unsure of himself in his words.

“You are going to get yourself ready and naked right now or I’ll leave. You fucking slag!” Harry hadn’t meant to spit that. It came out sure and frozen and sickly. So dangerous. Draco practically vibrated as he sprung up off the bed, eyes glazed over, fumbling over buttons, cock springing out as silk pajama bottoms fell to the floor. 

Draco’s body was inhumanly perfect. Real people didn’t look like that. Lithe and slim. Broad shoulders and delicately long legs, a pinched waist that appeared almost feminine if it wasn’t for that perfect prick standing at attention between his legs. 

“Sit on the bed, I’m going to fuck your mouth. I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you touch yourself at all you’re never coming again.” He wasn’t sure who was speaking, had anyone else been in the room, Harry would have assumed it was them. And then he was walking, unbuckling his belt as he came to stand in front of a seated Malfoy. Before he had a chance to pull his cock out and slip it between is pretty pink lips, he crouched down eye to eye with Malfoy’s hard gaze. “If you’re gonna act like a fucking whore then you’ll get treated like one.” And then, leaned even closer, his lips hovering just above Malfoy’s ear. 

“Who knew, Malfoy, that’d you’d be gagging for it like a fucking tart. You’ve got all that money but you’re worth as much as a bloody rent boy.”

Malfoy made a little noise that sounded half like a plea, half like a wine. And given that, leaving his lips half parted, Harry pulled out his cock. Without instruction, Draco opened his mouth wider, hot breath on the head.

“Would you look at that, maybe you are worth something after all.” And he slammed his cock into the back of Draco's throat. Harry hated how good it felt when Draco’s throat tightened around him in an attempt to gag, still tugging at silver locks, keeping him pressed to the coarse hair’s on harry’s flank. He knew Malfoy could take it. It’d hurt. It’d burn as he tried to gag away, yet he made no move to take his hands from where they were tangled in the bedsheets. Normally he would. Normally at the beginning, he’d make a few lazy attempts to regain control, to trick himself into thinking that he and Harry were on equal playing fields. That he didn’t love being fucked like this. It was the reason Draco had denied on having a safe word, despite Harry warning against it. He didn’t say it in so many words. Other than, “Potter if I want you off me I’ll make damn sure you know it!” He’d snapped, then scowled at the admission. Harry was sick of pretend. He was a fucking slag through and through, evident enough from the low moans rippling through him as Harry slammed into his mouth again and again, never giving him a second to breathe. It was time he stopped pretending to be anything other than Harry’s favorite fuck toy. 

“Your mouth was made to please me, Malfoy, you shouldn’t spend all your time talking shite with it— just keep it on my cock— yeah just like that.”

Malfoy purred and Harry felt the guttural noise through his balls. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, building quickly. Fuck, he pulled out. This time Draco let out a high pitched squeak and leaned forward in an attempt to take Harry in his mouth again. Harry swatted him away, drool coating Draco’s chin, tears in his wild eyes. He looked drunk. Dazed. Insane. Harry couldn’t help but massage his hands through that hair, tugging at it. 

“Can you taste yourself from this morning? Bet you like that taste of it, self-obsessed brat.”

Draco didn’t even blink, he seemed deaf, confused. Eyes slowly glazing over with lust.

“On your stomach, ass up,” Harry instructed. And slipping out of his daze Draco rolled onto the bed, back arched in a perfect curve so his twinkling little hole winked over at him. Harry grunted, pinning Draco’s shoulders to the sheets. 

“Did you let him fuck you?” Harry whispered, drool lubed cock sliding along the cleft of his ass.

Draco then tried to shake his head but found Harry’s grip too strong. 

“Did he?” Harry snapped, holding him tighter.

“No. I— he— he — he wanked me off,” Draco moaned, spurring back against Harry’s cock helplessly, earning himself a sharp slap against his ass. He hissed and arched his back up further. 

“Poor fucker, never even got to find out how tight you’re pretty little arse feels,” He chuckled darkly, spanking again, “He make you come harder then I do?” Asked Harry slowly stroking himself.

“God no,” his hoarse fucked out voice helpless as Harry slipped in a saliva-coated finger. “No one ever has, only— yes fuck!— only you.”

“If they only knew how easy it was. You become my little bitch with a spank and a good shag? What would they think if they saw their Slytherin king like this?” Two fingers, harder, scissoring, grazing that perfect place Harry knew almost on instinct.

Draco mewed head thrown back trying to push himself further around Harry. With a snicker, Harry pulled out, cock at the ready. Painfully hard, begging for realize. 

“I’m coming then I’m done. You better cum or you’ll have to wait until I’m in the mood again. Don’t you dare touching yourself.”

Draco’s cum untouched before. It’s not an impossible task to ask of him yet Draco groans, crying like a little bitch, begging for Harry to let him come, begging to touch himself. Harry ignored him. 

And then he was inside. No matter how many times they did this. One thing always reminded the same. Draco’s soft slick heat always sucked him up, pulled him his as tight as possible. It was the best thing Harry had ever felt. 

Being with a girl never felt like this (granted he’d only ever been with one girl), but nothing was as tight as this. He was being pulled inside, like something deep deep inside Draco needed him desperately. 

So he couldn’t help himself as he pulled out and back in, thrusting fully, hard and uncontrollable. And oh god. There were no words to explain the perfection of Draco’s arse. How tight it held him, as he clutched around him with every hard unrelenting thrust, unperturbed in an attempt to hold Harry inside him for as long as possible. 

“Oh yes! Oh Salazar Harry!” Draco whimpered, pushing back to meet his every trust. Deep and hard as Harry shoved Draco’s head back into the pillows. 

“Ah, more! Harder! Please,” his soft noises, almost inaudible through the cotton. 

“There you go, pet, you’re getting it,” he growled, leaning down to suck at to length of Draco’s beautiful unmarred throat. Biting down through the waves of pleasure. 

“Good. You’re getting there Draco. See you can be a good boy for me, can’t you?”

“Please, please,” Draco was chanting, breath hitching muscles tensed. He was so fucking close, so was Harry.

“Be good then. Cum for me.”

And, without a second more, Draco let out a terribly magnificent wail, and spurted onto the bedsheets.

Harry grinned at Draco’s pliancy. Thrusting harder, Harder. Harder. In and out, into and overstimulated Draco. Yet still Draco made no move of protest. He let his body relax, allowing Harry to grip his hips and fuck into him with all the force he had. Draco’s breath was too slow, too steady. Calm. At peace as Harry fucked and fucked and came with impossible force forehead pressed in the crook of Draco’s neck, sucking another hickey into his perfect skin. Before rolling off with a tired humpf.

“That better than that lanky seventh year?” Harry said with a chuckle, sweat dripping down his temple. 

Draco snorted tilting his head to face Harry. “You know it was.” Then he paused, a soft grin on his face once more. “That better than Weaselette?”

Harry couldn’t help the snicker, “You jealous?”

Draco tried to shake his head, basking in post-orgasm. “Nah, just gotta know for comparison if I take Thomas up on his offer. Gotta know what I’m up against.”  


Harry turned to face him fully now, pulling those blonde strands back behind his ear. “Dean wants to fuck you?”

“Everyone wants to fuck me. I’m the only out guy at this school. I’m everyone’s one chance to experiment.”

“Slag."  


Draco snorted, biting his lip, still staring. “I’ve only let one person ever get inside though.”

Harry smiled. He did know that. Though it was alway’s a nice reminder that no matter what, he’d alway’s have Malfoy’s virginity to wear on his sleeve.

“That’s because you know who you belong to,” Harry said, leaning forward to capture Draco’s lips in a chaste salty kiss. 

“You never answered me?” Draco whispered, their noses brushing.

“Hmm?”

“She better than me?”

Harry had to laugh because there was no way Draco just asked him that. Draco was objectively amazing in bed. Not even because of Harry’s weird obsession with him. Not only did he have the face and the body for it, but he was also just straight up, unexplainably fanstastic at sex.

“Baby, do you really think I’d be here right now if she was? You know I wasn’t lying. If you weren’t already drowning in money you could sell yourself and you’d probably have more money than you do now.”

Draco let out a choked laugh, grabbing the sheets from where they had fallen off the side of the bed, plucking them up and draping them over them both. “Well if my father ever disowns me, at least I’ll have your letter of recommendation,” then with a soft yawn, reaching past Harry to switch his bedside lamp off, “You staying the night?”

“I’ll stay for a bit, but I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

Draco hummed into the darkness, reaching over to despite the stain in the middle of the bed, pulling himself into Harry’s chest, kissing gently at his shoulder.

“Night, Potter.”

“Night, Malfoy.”


End file.
